


Catnap

by Raven100104



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Fluff, Human!Harry, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, chicken stuffed with mozarella wrapped in parmaham with a side of homemade mash, hybrid!louis, liam got scratched in the face, so much motherfucking fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 05:16:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6360976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven100104/pseuds/Raven100104
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A soft-hearted Harry finds a Cat Hybrid named Louis when he first moved to London. Upon the discovery of Louis' gross mistreatment under the hands of his owner, Harry catnaps him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catnap

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this for the longest time and never posted because it wasn't a longass, full-plot narrative. I'll probably add to it when I find time and inspiration, but for now, please enjoy as a fluffy oneshot.

The first time Harry met Louis was when Dan invited him over for dinner after he’d officially settled in in London. He was introduced to Dan by one of mum’s many connections from lord knows where, and the guy seemed friendly enough, nice enough to offer Harry a home-cooked meal after a long day of unpacking and straightening up, so he went. Upon his entrance, there, perching on the arm of the couch, was the most precious creature Harry’d ever seen. Brown tail fluffed and ears upright on the top of his messy fringes, the creature looked almost…haughty. Except not. Dainty with a sort of fire inside, maybe. He stared Harry down though, his nose wiggling to get a whiff of the curly-haired intruder.

“Louis, don’t be rude, ged ‘ere and let Harry see you.” Dan called, albeit a bit snappily. Harry, however, dismissed his tone and took a small step forward.

“Hi, ‘m Harry.” He smiled charmingly, extending a hand out. Louis stared at the limb for a while before shaking his hand and disappearing into Dan’s room.

The second time was when Harry brought some freshly baked biscuits to Dan’s after he’d lost his job. Louis looked a little thin and his shirt seemed old and holey but Harry merely thought him playful, maybe mucked around outside and got a bit dirty, so Harry settles for giving him a gentle smile and offering him a few biscuits before bringing the rest of the basket up to Dan’s room. But from the way Louis gobbled down the biscuits he should’ve seen it coming.

It wasn’t by the third time that Harry went to Dan’s that he realized something was off. Dan had asked Harry out earlier that night, and when the curly haired boy rejected him, things had gone south for Louis. When Harry came to check on Dan that night because he’s Harry, Dan wasn’t home and the door was cracked open. When Harry entered, beer bottles lay scattered on the carpet, and in the corner, Louis was curled up in a cage a size too small with cuts and bruises littering the entirety of his naked body. Harry’s mouth drops at the sight.

“Louis!” The kitten-boy’s ears flutters at the unfamiliar voice, one deeper and infinitely more mellow than that of his master. “Where’s Dan? What happened?”

“Dunno.” Louis mutters simply, turning back to face the wall as his tail curled around his waist for some warmth.

“What are you doing in th- did Dan do this to you?” Harry whispers, stopping mid-sentence as a horrible realization dawns, and as his green eyes search for a confirmation, Louis could only shrug. Saying anything would only work against him, the kitten knows. Besides, Harry is Dan’s friend, so why should he question where Harry’s loyalties lie? His entire body was on fire, his jaw aches, and he just couldn’t get comfortable in the cage, so sue him if he doesn’t want to make conversation. He almost relaxes when Harry says no more, but the next thing he hears is the cage door creaking open and his could feel his heart nearly drop to his stomach.

“W-What are you doing? Dan’ll be mad.” Louis stutters, furry brown ears disappearing into his fringe. He rolls over to face the intruder, tail covering his privates. “Harry you can’t do that.”

“No, c’mon darlin’ let’s get you out of there.” Harry insists, offering a large hand. And when Louis refuses to move, the curly haired boy physically climbs into the all-too-small confinement and pulls the even smaller lad from within. Louis is light, so light. “Love, you need to go to the hospital.”

Louis snorts out a laugh. “Yeah, what hospital takes hybrids?”

“You’re a person too!” Harry argues.

“Save it.” Louis scoffs. If once Louis had a fantasy, then it was but a delusion compromised by the heady reality. Crossing his arms, he glares at the lanky boy before him in distaste “Can I go back to my cage now before your pal comes back and gets angry again?”

“No. Oh god, no! Absolutely not-” Harry worries his bottom lip, as if deciding what to do, and after a moment of pondering, he realizes that there really is no other option. He sheds his coat immediately and swings it over Louis, watching with a tug at his heart as the fabric engulfs his whole body. Louis seems to rake in the warmth, but his eyes are tired and he is still fighting. Then, with a firm hand on the small of his back, Harry urges him out the door; needless to say, Louis fights him all the way to the car and back to his flat.

“Lou, Louis please,” Harry calls out worriedly as Louis storms into the flat, tail puffed and ears taut. The hybrid whirls around with a hiss, baring his teeth.

“No! No, I know you think you’re saving me, but you’re not, okay? I don’t need you, and I will not be passed around by one master to another like, like some kind of pet that you can tame!” Louis growls, pupil slitting in a way that renders him more feline than man. “Now get me home before Dan proper skins me!”

“Louis, I’m not trying to keep you as pet for Christ’s sakes! You aren’t safe there!” Harry cries as the small boy paces around, clearly frightened that his master will show up at any point and whisks him away for another beating.

“I don’t know what you want from me Harry! You don’t own me!” Louis screeches, panic finally flooding through. Dan’s going to find him, he just knows, and Dan’s going to hurt him so bad he can already feel the hand-shaped bruise on his skin. Chewing his sharp nails to the nub, Louis is on the verge of breaking skin.

“Louis! Lou, stop, stop you’ll hurt yourself,” with two strides forward, Harry invades Louis’s space for the second time that night, and physically pulled his fingers away from his mouth. “You’re right, I don’t own you. But neither does Dan. You own you. I just want you to be safe, ok?”

Louis hesitates, blue eyes scanning the entirety of Harry, as if gauging his motives.

“And you are. Safe, I mean. Here.” The curly haired boy promises, voice deep and sure, then whirls around to bolt the front door.

“What do you want from me?” Louis murmurs after a moment, only to have Harry sigh at him again. Harry’s coat is too big on him and he’s too small and too hurt and too scared and Harry just needs to take it all away and make him better.

“I don’t want anything, just that you’re safe, alright?”

“Why do you care?” Louis shoots back without missing a beat, eyeing Harry warily as the boy fumbles through a drawer or two, in favor of searching for a first aid kit.

“Because I’m not a prick, is that enough?” Harry cheers quietly when he finally finds the box he’s been looking for. “Now for god’s sakes, let me look at your wounds.”

“Dan will be angry once he finds me missing.” Louis states instead, but makes no move to obey Harry’s orders. His bare toes curl into Harry’s carpet and his long fingers dig into his palm nervously, but he refuses to obey.

“Louis.”

“I’m serious. He’ll come looking.” His little fangs poke out now, just the slightest bit as he chews on his bottom lip. “Then we’ll both be in trouble.”

“Louis.”

“Breaking and entering. Also theft.” Louis crosses his arms. He’s not even sure where this courage comes from, because Harry’s not a small man and frankly, he’s terrified out of his mind. But the curious lad has yet to menace him, so. “You stole me, technically that’s theft. Maybe kidnapping.”

“Louis I swear to god if you don’t sit down this instant-”

“What? Are you going to hit me too? Is that it?” Louis grits, his ears flatten against his tousled locks like he’s bracing himself for the incoming blow. Harry groans loudly this time.

“No! I’m trying to help you, why are you like this?” He cries, exasperated; then, quieter, he whispers, “I’d never lay a finger on you.” Nevertheless, Harry takes another step closer, only to have Louis back into the couch.

“Do not come near me, do you hear me not a step closer!” The brunet screeches, voice piercing the air as he falls into the soft cushions, protected by nothing other than Harry’s coat. Despite the front, he’s well aware that Harry needs to just take two struts with those long legs, then he would be in smacking distance. He knows words mean nothing when he’s a hybrid, knows that humans wouldn’t listen, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. From fighting. 

What surprises him next, is that Harry…listens. Doesn’t move closer; doesn’t threaten him. Instead, he sets down the kit on the coffee table, and slides it to Louis with a snap of his wrist. He also grabs the throw blanket and tosses that to Louis too.

“I won’t come closer, but take my help, okay?” Harry promises softly, tries not to seem too wounded, and pads off into another room. “I hope you’re alright with human food though, not sure I got Friskies lying around.”

Louis’ ears slowly rise to follow the sound of his pitter-patter, and swivel every few seconds with each different sound that comes from the kitchen. There are shuffles of a tear of some bag, a sizzling in the hot pan, then a few minutes later a whistle of the kettle. It seems innocent enough, but Louis, tired as he is, remains alert.

However, when Harry reemerges fifteen minutes later, Louis has already curled into the throw, and is already drifting off only to shoot upright at the younger lad’s presence. 

“Relax,” Harry chides, tilting his head as if to appease him as his hands are occupied with the tray he bears. “Made you some food. Tacos. M’friends say I make a good taco so. And tea. Dunno how y’like it so…I’ve just put a bit of sugar and milk, hope you don’t mind.”

Louis eyes the food suspiciously, but he can already feel saliva gathering at his tongue. God when was the last time he’d eaten? Maybe the leftovers of Dan’s toast two mornings ago? “So you’re just…feeding me.” He says tightly as Harry sets the tray on the coffee table before him, right next to the first-aid kit. 

“Well. Yeah.” Like last time, he doesn’t come any nearer, which makes Louis’s shoulder relax just the slightest bit.

Progress.

“Like. I don’t have to do anything.” Louis asks again, dubiously. “To eat.”

“Nope.” He pops the P.

Louis stares at the food again. No. This has to be some trick. Has to. Last time Dan made his jaws ache so much that he almost didn’t want to eat anymore. In any case, Harry seems to sense the hesitation in his eyes when he glances at the platter distrustfully.

“’s not poisoned.” The curly haired boy reassures. And to prove it, he leans over to pluck a piece of the taco and pops it into his mouth, chews, swallows, and washes it all down with a sip of Louis’s steaming tea just for good measure. “I promise, you don’t have to do anything.”

Nodding cautiously, Louis moves to pick up the food with a soft mutter of ‘thanks’, and Harry watches his every move. The way his fingers tremble as he holds the taco to his mouth. How he sometimes swallows without even chewing. The bobbing of his Adam’s apple when he does. He isn’t sure when it happened, but somewhere, in the middle of this meal, Harry finds a soft smile gracing his own lips.

“Lou,” Harry drawls when Louis is on his last sip of tea. The hybrid looks up, ears perked on top of his soft locks, and looks significantly less pale than he had an hour ago. “D’you want to stay here for the night?”

Louis stiffens. “Where here?”

Harry’s brows furrow in confusion, not quite sure what the other lad meant. “Like…maybe on the sofa?”

“Oh.” The brunet breathes. “Oh.”

“What did you think I meant?” Harry asks softly, having seen the flash of fear that passed through those ungodly blue eyes.

“Thought you had a cage too.” Louis responds just as softly, “didn’t peg you for the type.”

Louis ends up staying the night, after he makes sure Harry retreats to his room and has no intention of coming past the coffee table. Harry is a good sport too, tossing him pillows and a proper blanket all from behind the invisible line. Even left warm milk on the table after his 3am wee that disturbed Louis from his unbearably light slumber.

Harry wakes up the next morning with an unsettling feeling, and once his brain settles and he’s dug a fist into his eye sockets, he springs out of bed with a ‘shit!’ Padding to the living room, he finds the bluest pair of eyes staring back at him in a glassy gaze. “Louis,” he breathes in relief, “good, you’re still here.”

“Take me home.” The kitten-boy demands, though his high voice cracks just two syllables in. Harry drops his gaze.

He’s not stupid, he knows what’s in store for his new hybrid friend the second Dan gets a hold of him. He’s seen the news, seen how hybrids are treated, and while they could be found in loving families, more often than not, they’re in disposal sites. Louis will not end up like that, mangled and starved. Not on his watch.

“No, I can’t do that.”

“Yes you can!” Louis screeches, his breathing quickens.

“Why do you want to die so bad?”

“I don’t!”

“Then why go back?!”

“Because! Because at least I can hope I’d die quickly!” Louis screams, a sob racking from his ears to his tail, tears welling up the blue blue eyes that Harry had grown to fancy over such a short time. It’s a sight, watching Louis cry. It’s not a thing of beauty, a cliché. It’s fucking sad and it fucking hurts. His shoulders shake in ways that make Harry afraid he might cave in on himself. His eyes bulged from the constant friction of skin and knuckle. His teeth chatter loudly no matter how hard he tries to stop. His hands are snotty and messy and sticky and it fucking hurts.

And Harry can’t stand it.

“Fuck,” he breaks his promise and circles around the table, throwing two strong arms around the trembling boy.

“No, no don’t touch me!” Louis struggles, pushing the younger boy away and Harry instantly drops his arms.

“Please don’t…please tell me what I can do, please.” Harry murmurs, eyes pained and voice laced with nothing but concern and Louis wants do, oh how he wants to, trust this human. But Louis had made the mistake of thinking Dan was alright. Sure, he fed him and clothed him and only yelled at him sometimes, and Louis was fine with that, until Dan became just like everyone else when anger got the best of them. Harry would become like that too, Louis is sure of it.

“S-Sit over there,” Louis demands, not even expecting Harry to listen. But he does. Harry crosses back to the other side of the table wordlessly, and Louis begins to calm, his sobs turning into sniffles.

Once Harry is sure that the kit is stable enough, he speaks up. “Lou, can I make you a deal?”

“No, no deal. Hurts every time there’s a deal.” He answers, and Harry’s heart drops all over again. What has the boy gone through?

“Won’t hurt, I promise. Cross my heart.” Harry assures, leaning forward to catch Louis’s eyes. “Hear me out, please?”

Louis blinks at him for a few moments, damp eyelashes sticking to one another as he does before he finally answers with a slow, cautious nod.

“If you let me clean you up, put on ointment and all that, I’ll make you a nice English fry-up.” The curly-haired lad offers.

“If I don’t?” Louis shoots back out of rebellious habit despite the win-win on his side.

Harry softens, “I’d make you a nice English breakfast anyway.”

Louis got a delicious plate of eggs, hash, sausages, and a good ration of bacon that day without Harry ever crossing that invisible line, but somehow, in some way, Harry feels that he crossed an even bigger barrier. And though Louis remained dirtied with blood and sweat, that smallest glint of trust in his eyes made Harry’s deal worth the while.  
\---  
Louis ends up spending the night, and the night after that, and the one after _that_ , fed and pampered without ever having to move. Somehow, somewhere down the line, Louis becomes Harry’s constant.

Harry’s placing dinner on the table when Louis initiates conversation one night.

It’s small, quiet, and tentative, when he says, “Can I have a wash tonight? Don’t like water much meself but m’back is starting to ache and there’s blood on your sofa. It also doesn’t take a cat’s nose to know I stink.”

Harry’s eyes light up almost immediately at the request, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes! Yes I’ll draw you a bath and-”

“S’it alright if we have supper first?” Louis cuts in again, “I-If that’s alright with you?”

“Of course Lou, anything you want.” The curly haired boy positively beams, and a small part, just a tiny part of Louis aches for the welcomed warmth that his smile radiated. His slitted cat eyes followed as Harry nudges his tray to him before going back around to the dining room to seat himself.

Once dinner is all finished, Louis helpfully stacks all his dishes together for Harry to come get them.

“Have you got enough to eat, sweetheart?” The curly-haired boy asks as he does after every meal, all dimples and crinkly eyes. The kitten had been starved coming into his care, and he never wanted his new companion to ever feel the pangs of an empty stomach again.

“Positively stuffed.” Louis smiles, the soft kind that shows maybe he’s dropped a bit of his guard. “Can I ask you a question?” He asks, quietly still, as if he doesn’t want to be a bother.

“Sure,” Harry answers, surprised again that his guest is making conversation, and kneels on the human side of the coffee table with all the focus on the kit.

“Why do you always look so happy after I’ve eaten?” Louis asks, curiosity peeking through. His ears wiggle a bit, Harry notices offhandedly.

“I don’t know,” Harry smiles, “I guess I just like knowing that you’re taken care of and that you like my cooking.”  
\-------------------------------------------------  
Louis shifts. He’s going to do it. Today’s the day. He will. “Harry?”

“Yeah?” Harry calls back.

“Can uh…can we-…can we maybe eat together tonight?”

Harry nearly drops his fork, but nevertheless, Louis’ never seen a man move that fast when the human boy all but scurries back to the couches, placing himself carefully on the furthest seat away, on the couch perpendicular to Louis’. After all the distance he’s tried to keep, the sudden proximity almost renders him breathless. “You sure this is alright? You’re okay?”

“Y-Yeah. I think so,” Louis breathes, looking up at him through fluttering lashes, small hands folded before him, surrounding the knees that are pulled up to his chest. It isn’t a defensive stance, and for that, Harry is so pleased.  
\-------------------------------------------------------  
Harry gets home late one night, and finally gets settles in in the living room with a bowl of popcorn in his hands, absolutely enthralled with GoggleBox, when Louis worms his way to his own couch that sits at an angle to the TV.

“Hi!” Louis mewls, startling the human boy into spilling his snack everywhere. He freezes, thinking Harry angry with him, and is nearly about to explain himself, tell him how he didn’t mean to, how sorry he is, until-

“Oops.” Harry laughs a booming laugh, green eyes twinkling from the TV light, and Louis visibly relaxes as Harry slowly picks up the pieces, laughter still in his throat. “Lou, how’s your day? Finally decided to wake up from your catnap?”

“Wasn’t a catnap,” Louis grumbles with a pout, which make Harry laugh all the harder, before leaning over his couch arm expectantly. Harry turns to kiss him affectionately on the cheek, and the kit positively beams. “What’re you watching?”

“GoggleBox, it’s hilarious, watch with me!” Harry grins, placing the leftover popcorns on the coffee table so they can share. Louis picks at the white puffs carefully, unsure, before taking a taste; when he deems it the ‘finest English delicacy,’ Harry nearly lost it.

Half way through the program, Louis’ neck begins to ache from the angle, so he ventures over the arm and onto Harry’s couch, like a newborn babe learning his first steps. Harry nearly jumps again. Since the day he brought Louis back to his flat, the kit had always claimed his couch. No one was to go past the coffee table near it, next to it, or even breathe on it. It was his safe spot. His. Liam had tried once and had claw marks on his face for a week, and because of it, Harry banned his friend from his flat for an entire month. Undeniably, it is Harry’s respect for boundaries that kept him staying in the flat, so to see Louis himself breaking the boundary he set, is…like the first step on the moon.

“Lou you-”

“Me neck ‘urts.” Louis muffles simply into Harry’s arm. It is the curly-haired boy’s turn to freeze, like if he moves the wrong way, Louis would retreat again. His stillness seems to make Louis bolder, his fluffy tail swung straight up as he slowly, softly noses at Harry’s side. “smell good.”

Harry chokes out a laugh that sounded more like a wheeze, but keeps all the stiller until Louis nudges down his arm and into his side, where the kit forcefully pushes his head between the younger boy’s underarm and torso, giggling when Harry finally relaxes and rubs a hand down Louis’ back, giving more room for Louis to fit right up against him.

He marvels at the feel of the kit’s clavicles that poke out slightly from his skin and dip into his lower back. Louis seems to be soothed by the gesture, so Harry takes it as permission to slide his hand down to the dimple at the bottom of his spine, giving it a light scratch and watching Louis keen in pleasure, his tail dropping to wrap around Harry’s wrist. Harry smiles and continues to rub gently at that spot, and by the time he stopped, Louis has somehow cathandled him until he is laid down with the kit on top of him.

“This is okay?” Louis murmurs softly, lips pursed and pupils blown in the dark, and Harry can do nothing but scratch at his ears.

“’Course, Lou.”  
\----------------------------------  
“Louis, what is that smell!” Harry coughs as he shucks off his worn boots, leaning down to arrange them together so the two individual shoes don’t ‘get lonely’. (Louis tells him he’s ridiculous. Harry argues that Louis purred when he said that. Louis groans in annoyance, but the continuous vibration in his throat betrays him.)

“I prepared dinner!” Louis’ laughing voice rings from the kitchen, making Harry cough through the waft of burntness to reach him. Of course, of course Louis would burn the ham, judging by the bits of black substance in the kitchen sink.

Rolling his eyes, Harry wraps his arms around the boy’s torso from behind, chin dropping to his shoulder. “You never cook dinner.”

“I do too!” Louis cries, affronted. “Last Tuesday!”

“Pot noodle doesn’t count, love.” Harry grins, and dodges just in time as Louis’ elbow jabs backwards. “Heeeeeey.”

Louis snorts to himself, but his eyes never left his masterpiece. At his intense stirring, Harry dares to lean closer again. “What’s that? Mash?”

“ _Homemade_ mash. ” Louis dignifies.

“You know that gets me all hot and bothered.” Louis stops, finally allowing himself a moment to turn to his human with his eyebrows raised. Harry raises his hands in defense.

“Harold-” Louis starts, going back to his stirring.

“Harry.”

“Harold. Quit being a nuisance and go…do whatever it is that you do to make your hair curly.”

“I have beautiful natural curls and I wanna heeelp.” Harry whines loudly arms flailing exaggeratedly as his face scrunches up into a sad pout. “Pleeeease?” Louis ignores him steadily, until the younger boy grabs his face and begins to kiss (forehead) and kiss (ear) and kiss (eyelid) and kiss (lips)-

“Alright alright!” Louis laughs, shoving him away lightly whilst wiping down his cheek where Harry blew his raspberries and left a trail of slobber. “You’re so gross.”

“You love me.” Harry grins cheekily, leaning down to give the kit a proper kiss on the lips which Louis pretends to not enjoy.

“Just go wrap the chicken in the parma ham.” Louis grumbles, but the hint of a smile on his lips betrays every bit of fondness in his being.


End file.
